


breathing in snowflakes

by whenyouheldtheknife



Category: Video Blogging & YouTube RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Anorexia, Bulimia, Dating, Depression, Eating Disorders, Eventual Relationships, Eventual Romance, Explicit Sexual Content, Gen, M/M, Oral Sex, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Purging, Relationship(s), Sad, Sex, Sexual Content, Vomiting, but people can't really be fixed, we will see where this goes i guess
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-01-17
Updated: 2014-08-02
Packaged: 2018-01-09 01:25:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 13,148
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1139790
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/whenyouheldtheknife/pseuds/whenyouheldtheknife
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Everything seemed so simple at first. Unfortunately, things are never as simple as they may seem. [tw: eating disorders; bulimia, vomiting, depression. title a work in progress.]</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. prologue

**Author's Note:**

> yes i don't know why i'm writing this someone save me from this wow okay yup yeah why am i doing this.  
> i mean i really want you guys to like it so i hope you do? or that at least someone does? the idea's been in my head for a while now and it just sort of came out, so have this prologue-type thing.  
> lemme know what you think in the comments??

It had started with simple changes, really. 

Dan had wanted to become a bit healthier - there was always the risk of being overweight and the diseases that came with it lingering at the back of his mind like a storm cloud threatening to pour down - and so he had implemented some new habits into his life. 

It started with Shakeaway. Dan always got something with maltesers in it, usually a lesser flavor so as not to disrupt the perfection that was the malteser. He knew the sheer amount of fat in the shake - not exact numbers, no, but Dan knew that there was a high volume of fat in his drink. There had to be. So he had started ordering healthier options - fat-free options, to be precise. Unfortunately, that had meant giving up the maltesers, but Dan knew that it was for his own good. When he and/or Phil went to Shakeaway now, Dan always got one of the fat-free flavors with nothing else in it. It was for the best, really. 

The next thing that Dan had done was decide to take the tube less. He had decreased the amount of money he put on his oyster card, as he knew that that would get him to walk more than anything, and he had even bought a pair of athletic shoes so that he wouldn’t injure himself. Some of the distances were long - it was a little over three whole kilometers to walk to anywhere decent within London, really. He would always walk there and back, even if his feet hurt or he got winded - he needed to keep going. 

Dan even told Phil, and Phil had been supportive of the whole idea. The black-haired man’s eyes had lit up and he’d smiled, telling Dan that he was doing the right thing, that it was good to start making these changes in his life. Phil even mentioned that they could take the tube to the gyms sometime and work out together. Not together-together, he remedied, but as in they would go together and leave together. All in all, it was a pretty solid plan. 

So when Dan got home from a walk to Tesco’s and began to unpack the groceries, he didn’t know why his hands opened the box of crackers, why they ripped open a sleeve, why they began shoving the round salty things into his mouth with increasing frequency. All Dan could think about was more, more, something else - he spotted the biscuits. Dan ripped open the tin and stuffed those in his mouth, too, nearly half the container went from his hands to his mouth down his esophagus and into his stomach. Feeling stranger still, as if he were on autopilot, Dan went to the fridge, opened it, and pulled out the milk jug, unscrewing the cap and drinking straight from the container. Milk dripped down from the sides of his mouth and when it reached his oversensitive neck, Dan stopped. He felt like he came back to himself, in a sense, and he slammed the milk jug down on the counter, sloshing some of its contents out. “Phil!” Dan called, clutching his hands to his stomach and half-running to the bathroom. “Can you do the groceries, I don’t feel well!” he yelled at Phil’s door before running into the bathroom, slamming the door shut, locking it behind him, and spinning around to face the toilet, which he knelt in front of and vomited into for about five minutes straight. 

When Dan’s stomach stopped trying to throw itself out of his body and into the toilet, the man stood up on shaky legs and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, flushing the toilet with the other. He turned away from the toilet and washed his hands at the sink mechanically, still feeling off somehow. As Dan scrubbed at his knuckles, trying make sure the vomit scent was gone, he began to recognize the feeling. It wasn’t until he was on his second round of brushing his teeth that it came to him: he felt clean. Dan felt clean. He felt empty, pure, lighter. It was a strange thing to feel after throwing up for so long, but Dan would be the first to say that he was a little strange. Could such a feeling happen again, or was Dan only feeling that way because he had gone on a strange eating spree and then needed to get the food out? 

The only way to find out, Dan realized as he spit into the sink and wiped his mouth with a clean towel, was to try it again. 


	2. chapter one

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There was a nice warmness in Dan’s stomach when he got to spend time with Phil like this, where neither of them had any videos to film or prepare for the radio show - it was nice to relax and feel almost normal.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i actually wrote like three and a half pages for this i don't even know why but i can't get this idea out of my head so ahaha you're all stuck with me if you read it.

When Dan came out of the bathroom, Phil was on him almost immediately, worry creasing his brow. “Are you all right? That was a lot of sick,” he asked, his hand reaching out to rest on Dan’s shoulder, gripping it firmly. 

Dan nodded and smiled. “Yep, and I’m minty-fresh now,” he replied. The clean feeling was still resting happily in his stomach and it had built up to his head. He felt much calmer now, more in control after that wild eating episode. He really hoped that it wouldn’t happen again, even if it did lead him to throwing up and getting this nice feeling again. It just wasn’t ideal - who knew how many grams of fat were in those crackers or biscuits or in the milk? Maybe he should just go fat-free entirely… 

“That’s great! I’ll make dinner then.” Phil stepped away, smiling, and went back into the kitchen. Dan peeked down the hall a little bit and noticed that Phil actually hadn’t put most of the groceries away - just the box of crackers and the tin of biscuits. Dan wondered if he had been standing outside the door the entire time, worrying. That thought made Dan worry a little - would that happen again? If he threw up again, would he have to wait until Phil was out of the house? 

Dan decided not to think about it at the time (fat chance that he would succeed at that; Dan knew better than anyone that he would be up until the wee hours of the morning pondering over such an inane topic) and retreated to his bedroom, closing the door quietly behind him and flopping onto his bed, curling up like a burrito in his toasty blankets. Maybe a little rest would work some magic on his slowly-fraying mind. 

\--

It was about two weeks later when it happened again. 

Dan had had a relatively normal day out with Phil; they had gone to Topman to check out some of the new clothes that had just come in. Phil had a gift card from his mother and they spent nearly two hours in the store together, laughing and trying different things on, causing a general ruckus. There was a nice warmness in Dan’s stomach when he got to spend time with Phil like this, where neither of them had any videos to film or prepare for the radio show - it was nice to relax and feel almost normal. 

“Phil, I dare you to put this on!” Dan exclaimed, grinning as he pulled out a brown wool jumper with crazy neon zigzags going across it every which way, intersecting at random with bright blue polka dots. 

Glancing over at Dan from the next rack, Phil grinned and rolled his eyes. “Yeah, alright Dan, I’ll take your dare.” The man walked over and took the jumper from Dan and headed towards the dressing room, which the pair hadn’t really strayed too far from. That way, it was easier to find things and not have to walk what felt like halfway across the world to try them on. 

Dan was still casually browsing when Phil came out of the dressing room, muttering, “I look silly in this…” 

Dan looked up and immediately began to laugh, clutching at his stomach. “Oh my God, you look so ridiculous, Phil! You should buy it! You look like… like some kind of hipster, almost, you would with your glasses at least.” He grinned and Phil caught a glance of himself in the mirror and began to laugh too, nodding and heading back into the changing room to take it off. 

“After this I think we should head back, Dan. I’m getting kind of hungry,” Phil called, his voice a little muffled from what was probably the jumper. 

“Oh, all right. We could order takeaway,” the brunette suggested absent-mindedly. Then he paused, catching himself. Shit. He really didn’t want to order takeaway; there was loads of fat in the usual stuff they ordered - especially if they got Chinese. It was their favorite, and one of Dan’s favorites especially - his stomach rumbled at the thought and he mentally shushed it, willing it to stop - but he wouldn’t be able to eat it. Not if there was even a gram of fat in it. It would be better without anything fattening in it at all, and that included carbohydrates, proteins, and basically everything except for fruits and vegetables. “Actually, Phil…” Dan began, putting away the clothes he had been looking at and turning back to the dressing room, but Phil had already come out of the dressing room looking excited. 

“Could we get pizza? I really want to try the Hawaiian pizza, a lot of my viewers last live show said that it was pretty good.” Phil was folding the clothes over his arm and was already walking to the front of the shop where the registers were. 

Dan felt trapped. He couldn’t really say no; he did like pizza, even if it was covered in ham and pineapple. “I suppose,” he said, shrugging and forcing a smile. 

Phil caught the tone though, and stopped walking before they reached the line. “Are you sure?” he asked. “If you want we could just cook something, it’s no big deal, Dan. I can get Hawaiian pizza any time.” He smiled and Dan thought it simply wasn’t fair that Phil could look at him like that and make his insides feel warm the way they were right now. 

“No, really, it’s fine. I think it’d be great. And much less of a hassle than having to cook something. God, can you imagine all the work that would go into that?” Dan asked, laughing a little at his own joke. 

“Okay, great! I’ll order it as soon as we get home.” Phil’s smile had brightened considerably. It was clear that he was much happier getting the pizza than cooking something. Besides, Dan’s stomach was still rumbling - he could probably use the food, anyway. Maybe if he blotted it then there wouldn’t be as much fat in it? He could certainly try, at any rate, and if it made Phil happy to order the pizza, then it made Dan happy. 

\--

They were home and eating the pizza in less than an hour. Phil was on his second slice and Dan was on his third. His brain had gone on autopilot again and Dan’s hands were moving too slow to keep up with the demands of his mouth, his stomach. Dan hadn’t spoken since he had started eating and he was okay with that. He felt that if his eating was acknowledged that he would just stop and throw up right there, right on the pizza and on Phil and in their clean kitchen and that would just embarrass him for the rest of forever. Dan could feel the nausea building, though, as he reached for his fourth slice of pizza and stuffed it in his mouth with a grunt of satisfaction, his hands greasy and his lips smacking as he swallowed each bite. It tasted so good, so greasy and slick and perfect - 

Then his stomach rebelled and Dan stood up, clapping both hands over his mouth. Phil looked up, surprised, and Dan shook his head as he ran to the bathroom and threw up into the toilet again. 

But this time, for some reason, he only threw up once. That wasn’t enough. Dan knew it wasn’t; he could still feel the cheese and the sauce and the ham and the pineapple roiling around in his stomach and so he only did what felt natural. Without a second thought, Dan shoved two fingers into his mouth, pushing back farther and farther until he gagged on them. He had to push on his stomach a little, but the rest of the pizza came up. It came up in chunks, undigested, and in cheese strings that got stuck to his teeth, and in ham pieces that plopped into the toilet and splashed the sick around a little. The mere thought of that was enough to make Dan throw up once more into the toilet, no fingers needed, and then… Then came the cleanness. The emptiness. The calm, the control. Everything seemed better now that Dan’s stomach was emptied. 

Dan stood, flushing the toilet and using the plunger to push some of the pizza chunks down the toilet, flushing again to make sure everything got down and would stay down. He went through the hand-washing ritual again, the teeth-brushing, the mouthwash, and wiping his face down with a clean damp towel. The feeling was back and Dan was in control. 

Until Phil barged into the bathroom, that is, the same worried look from a couple of weeks ago plastered on his face. “Dan! Jesus Christ, are you okay? Did you get food poisoning or something?” he asked, immediately rushing to his friend’s side and gripping both of Dan’s shoulders in his warm hands. “Was the pizza bad? I feel fine, but maybe there was something in it that you reacted badly to?” His question were rapid-fire and Dan felt a small seed of guilt form at the pit of his stomach, erasing the perfect emptiness he had felt before. 

“No, I… I dunno. Maybe I have a lactose problem? Mum said that sometimes it happens to people as they get older, you know,” Dan lied, feeling the guilt grow a little heavier. He didn’t want to lie to Phil, but he had to. Phil couldn’t know that Dan had almost planned this once he had been roped into the pizza. On the tube ride home, Dan had been planning how many pizza slices he could eat if he blanked his mind, how many it would take to make him throw up, how many times he could be sick after eating a certain amount. He could never let Phil know that. 

Phil was frowning now, but the worried crease between his eyebrows didn’t go away. “Well, let’s try putting you on a lactose-free diet for now, and we’ll see if that helps, all right?” He smiled a little, rubbing his thumbs along the sleeves of Dan’s short-sleeved shirt, trying to be reassuring. 

Dan’s heart warmed a little and he worried that it thumped too hard beneath his shirt, worried that Phil would somehow hear it. He swallowed nervously. “Yeah, that might work.” Dan smiled a little, looking down that short one inch at Phil’s blue-green eyes. “I’m fine. It was probably just a freak thing, so there’s no need to mother me, you silly.” 

Finally, a real smile broke out on Phil’s face. “Okay,” he agreed, stepping back with a pat to Dan’s shoulder. “Why don’t you go lie down, and I’ll air pop some popcorn for us and put that fat-free butter spray on it that you like. We can watch a film together on the couch?” 

Dan nodded. “That sounds great.” He smiled as Phil left the bathroom, then turned and looked at his face in the mirror. The dark circles under his eyes seemed a little more pronounced than usual, and there seemed to be a sort of puffiness around his jaw, but that would probably go away if he just drank some water. 

Everything would be all right. 


	3. chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “If you’re getting a scale, then I’m getting this,” he announced, setting the doodad down carefully in the cart. “We’ll name her Philippa. She’s my child now.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello yes hi long time no update? i wrote a lot and to be honest i'm running solely on puerto rican coffee and adrenaline right now. i decided to leave this at a cliffhanger, mostly because i thought it would be fun. c: lemme know what you think?

“I dunno Dan, do we really need a scale?” Phil asked Dan as the pair browsed through the home section of the ASDA. Dan was pushing a cart and paused at a neat line-up of various digital scales, preferring those to the older-looking ones with dials and whatnot. 

The brown-haired man shrugged. “I mean, we don’t need one, but I think I’d like to have one. It’d be easier to sort of see if any of the walking around is doing me any good, you know?” he replied, trying to be as casual as possible. Luckily for Dan, casualness seemed to come easily for him - there was a certain air he could adopt; the danisnotonfire persona, that was easy to slip on, much as one would slip on a familiar jacket. 

Phil thought that over for what felt like a few seconds too long to Dan, but then he nodded. “All right, one scale. We could both use it, then.” He smiled and wandered off a little farther, looking at in-home decorations instead of sticking near Dan. 

Frankly, that distance didn’t appeal to Dan - he could get nervous easily, especially in public without Phil by his side - so he chose a scale quickly and walked to catch up with Phil, who was bobbing the head on some sort of spring-loaded bathroom decoration and grinning to himself like a child. “Find something you like?” Dan asked drily, leaning against the cart and watching Phil with a smile. 

Phil nodded, picking up the little creature. It looked like a fake daisy, but the stem was the springy bit and the face of the flower had a bright red smiley face on it. “If you’re getting a scale, then I’m getting this,” he announced, setting the doodad down carefully in the cart. “We’ll name her Philippa. She’s my child now.” 

Dan laughed. “Your child? Oh, the one you’d have with Sarah Michelle Gellar. I’d expected her face to be a bit longer.” 

Phil rolled his eyes and tugged on the cart, making Dan stumble forward a little as it moved. “She’s pretty and you’re just jealous, come on now, we’ve still got to make the check-out line. Someone has a video to edit at home.” 

This was true: as usual, Dan had fallen a bit behind on his YouTube updates. Dan rolled his eyes and followed behind Phil as they walked to the front of the shop and up to the check-out line, complete with cashier. 

With Phil still at the head of the cart, Dan darted around to the front and reached in, unloading their purchases onto the conveyor belt: some groceries, the scale, Philippa (Phil need never know that Dan actually thought it was endearing for Phil to have picked up the ridiculous-looking daisy), two gallons of milk, and a tub of ice cream. Dan spun around and placed them on the belt, only to hear a soft giggle come from their cashier. 

He straightened up and walked forward, glancing at the girl scanning their groceries. She was smiling at him and Phil as if she knew something they didn’t. Dan glanced over at Phil and saw that he was already looking at Dan, as if Dan knew any better what this girl was smiling so widely about. 

(It was really a testament to where they lived that something as small as a cashier’s friendly smile could be seen as secretive and strange.) 

Phil pushed the cart forward and Dan took hold of its end, walking up and taking the bagged groceries and other supplies from the bagger and placing them in the cart. 

“So, how long have you two been living together?” the girl asked as she took Phil’s card and scanned it, smiling at the both of them in the same way she had been. 

Dan glanced at Phil - did this girl know them from YouTube? It wouldn’t surprise him; they had a wide-reaching fanbase. “Uh,” he said, pausing with bags in his hands, his arms feeling the strain from holding them aloft for too long. 

“Oh, just a few years,” Phil replied, filling in the gap for Dan with a tight smile as he took his card back from the girl. The girl looked like she wanted to say more, but Phil turned away and steered the cart out, nearly bowling Dan over with it. 

“What was that back there?” Dan muttered, keeping pace with Phil’s long strides easily. Being the same height as the other man could certainly be helpful at times. 

Phil shook his head, his mouth set in a firm line as he slowed down and motioned for Dan to take some of the bags so that they could walk back to the tube with them. “I just thought she was being nosy,” he finally answered, not looking at Dan. 

Dan knew that there was something more behind that, but his arms were laden with bags and he was doing his best to ignore his stomach rumbling and the thought that he could eat later in the solitude of the night, and his head didn’t have room for the extra worry of why Phil wouldn’t look at him when he spoke, so all he said was, “Yeah, she really was.” 

\--

It was three in the morning and Dan was standing with the fridge open in front of him, its light spilling out like a halo over his form in the otherwise dark kitchen. There were so many options in front of him: sandwich meats in the drawer, vegetables next to those bagged meat slices, canned tubes of pastries and croissants and all manners of unhealthy delicious things, not to mention the endless jugs of milk and juice and water that could fill Dan’s stomach in three seconds flat if he tried to chug them. 

Dan went straight for the bagged sandwich meats, not bothering to look or distinguish them from anything else in the drawer. He dove straight in, tearing at the packaging and opening it, taking out slices and shoving them into his mouth with abandon, chewing hastily. His stomach was growling and he shoved more food in, setting the baggie of sandwich meat on the counter and closing the fridge to grope around for bread. His fingers grasped the end of the loaf and Dan took it and the turkey and shuffled back to his room. 

With the door shut behind him, Dan sat down on his bed and opened the loaf, shoving a folded-over slice of bread in his mouth and adding a slice of turkey to it, chewing rapidly. He didn’t think ahead about if he would need water to get the food down, but luckily for him, the sheer amount of food in his mouth was making Dan salivate, making it easier for the food to get down. 

There was a word for what he was doing and Dan, after researching on his own time, learned what that word was. And as much as he wanted to deny it, this was not something that he could say was an isolated incident. At the beginning, maybe it had been, but now… it felt like a compulsion. It had been a little over a month since the very first time, and Dan had started to do this every night. 

Dan was more than halfway through the loaf of bread and completely finished with the bagged turkey when he felt his stomach tugging itself up his throat. He bolted out of his bed, leaving behind what was left of the bread and the crumbs as the only evidence of what he had done, making a beeline straight for the bathroom. 

It was open, thank God, and Dan went inside, closing the door behind him and locking it as he flicked the light on. He knelt in front of the toilet, flipping both lids up and staring down at the toilet bowl water. He took a deep, shaky breath in and let it out. He could do this. He could get rid of the food - he could have all the shit food he wanted and then get rid of it, easy as that. He would still be in control of what went into and out of his body and that was all Dan wanted. 

Carefully, Dan stuck his index finger down his throat, leaning over the toilet bowl as he wiggled it around a bit inside his mouth. Nothing much happened. He sort of scraped up his soft palate, he realized, and all that really resulted in was a lot of drool coming out on his fingers. “Come on Dan, you can do this, no need for being a wuss,” he mumbled at himself. Closing his eyes and tensing nearly every muscle in his body, Dan threw caution to the wind and shoved three long fingers straight back into his throat. It took some wiggling and some rather loud gagging and retching noises, but after almost a minute of trying, Dan felt the food come rushing back up, splashing over his hand and into the toilet bowl. It was warm and wet and absolutely disgusting, but Dan had never felt cleaner. 

Finishing up and flushing the toilet multiple times (the sick didn’t really want to go down the pipes and Dan couldn’t blame it; there was a fair amount of undigested bread chunks in there; he would have to remember next time to maybe chew his food), Dan stood and washed his arms and hands, scrubbing furiously at them to rid his limbs and fingers of the smell, even after his mouth was deemed clean enough. His throat was sore, especially from the mouthwash, and as Dan looked in the mirror he noticed that his neck looked kind of puffy. “What the fuck is this,” he said, his voice scratched-out from puking, and he pressed his fingers to the sides of his neck gently. “Shit,” Dan hissed out through his teeth. It was so fucking tender and swollen there. Was this normal? 

Deciding that he would google the symptoms tomorrow morning (okay, to be fair it was already tomorrow morning, but in Dan’s defense, it wasn’t actually tomorrow until he went to bed and woke up again around noon), Dan turned the light off and opened the door, walking out of the bathroom and straight into Phil. “Holy shit!” he yelped, jumping backwards about a mile at the shock. “Phil, what the fuck, you scared the _shit_ out of me!” 

There was a long pause, and then Phil quietly asked, “Did you just make yourself throw up?” 


	4. chapter three

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Even if sometimes he looked at Phil and felt the familiar tug in his chest to just be close to the other man, even if the way that Phil smiled at Dan made his heart do a flippy-over thing...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i changed pov slightly in this, from third person focusing on dan to third person focusing on phil. i think it ended up more third person omniscient at the end, so i'm really sorry about that. it was hard to write without fucking around with the pov.
> 
> anyway, i hope you enjoyed this! <3

Dan felt like he couldn’t breathe. The air was too hot suddenly, too thick - he could feel the accusation and the concern behind Phil’s tone hit him all at once. He swallowed, trying to find the words to explain away Phil’s question. “I… I got a midnight snack, you know, before going to bed, and it just didn’t sit right,” Dan finally answered. In the darkness, he couldn’t bring himself to meet Phil’s eyes. 

There was a brush of air and Phil had stepped forward to turn the light in the bathroom on, getting a better look at Dan. Dan felt more than saw Phil in his personal space; he felt the way his best friend was looking at him and Dan knew that if he looked up, he would see concern and questioning and maybe even disappointment in Phil’s eyes as they studied him, looking for the lie and the reason. Knowing someone for almost five years made it nearly impossible to lie to them. 

“Dan, I could hear you talking to yourself.” 

The brunette flinched away from his friend, his shoulders hunching in as his gaze fastened itself more steadily on the floor. “Well, what did you hear? You know how I talk, ha…” Dan trailed off weakly. He still couldn’t bring himself to look up. 

“Just look at me and tell me you got sick, Dan. Come on,” Phil urged, his voice dropping lower as he took another small step closer into Dan’s personal space. The shorter of the two reached out and placed a hand on Dan’s shoulder and another on his cheek, gently tilting his friend’s head up to look at him. “Dan,” Phil repeated, softly, his eyes boring into Dan’s and his hand never leaving the other’s face. 

Dan swallowed and it burned his throat. He could tell Phil that he had made himself throw up because he’d eaten too much and that it had been on purpose… But that would fuck everything up. That would ruin his whole plan and he wouldn’t be able to throw up on his own again if he needed to, if he ate too much. “I - “ Dan paused. Phil’s thumb was stroking across his skin, rubbing soft circles into his cheek. Holy shit what was happening, what the fuck was this, why was Phil doing this to him. “I honestly got sick on my own,” he finally said, the words struggling to get out as he finally made eye contact with Phil. 

His friend’s blue eyes were boring into Dan and the brunette resisted the urge to flush under Phil’s touch - the hand was still on his cheek, still rubbing soft circles. “Okay,” Phil finally said. He took his hand off of Dan’s cheek and gave his shoulder a squeeze before stepping back. “Sorry. I’m going to bed. Night, Dan.” He nodded at his friend, then turned and walked back to his own bedroom, shutting the door behind him with a click. 

Dan was still trying to understand what had just happened when Phil left. He was mostly trying to get his heart beat under control, to be fair. Reaching behind him, Dan shut off the light and shuffled back to his bedroom, collapsing onto his bed with a great exhale, his limbs inadvertently shoving the remaining bread off of his bed. 

Why had Phil touched him like that? Had the older man been trying to calm him? It sort of worked, Dan admitted to himself as he rolled over, cocooning himself in his comforter and lying on his back. His eyes were wide open as he thought over what had just happened. He and Phil had had something in the past, sure, when they had first met the attraction had been undeniable. And Dan would be lying if he said he hadn’t had a crush on the older man the first moment he saw Phil’s videos. It had been a deciding factor in a lot of Dan’s past actions, honestly - even the original move to the University of Manchester; he had just wanted to be that much closer to Phil. It had been even more important to be close at the time, as they had certainly done a little bit of fooling around prior to Dan’s entrance into university. 

That was in the past, though - they had never defined a relationship between the two of them and in the end it had just sort of… faded, really. It was regrettable, especially because that fooling around they had done had just brought them closer, but it had strengthened their friendship in the end, Dan supposed. Even if sometimes he looked at Phil and felt the familiar tug in his chest to just be close to the other man, even if the way that Phil smiled at Dan made his heart do a flippy-over thing, even if Dan still had dreams where he woke up feeling how Phil used to kiss him awake before noon - 

Oh, shit. 

\---

The following three weeks or so was more than a little awkward for the two men. Dan was trying his best to keep his distance from Phil, feeling guilty not only about the bathroom incident, but about the thoughts he’d been having about his best friend recently. The brunette felt especially guilty that he’d woken up half-hard and about to palm himself through his sleep pants with Phil’s name on his tongue more than once. 

Phil, on the other hand, seemed to be trying to be around Dan pretty much all the time. They didn’t order in once over the course of the week; Phil insisted on cooking each night and made plenty of meals for Dan, meals with perfectly normal portions. And Dan really didn’t like that. It fucked up his schedule - he didn’t feel right throwing up meals that Phil made for him, but Dan felt like he had to do it. He couldn’t help it. Sometimes the food would try to come up on its own and Dan would be sick without even having to try. 

He was feeling a lot weaker than usual, and much thirstier as well. There was a certain lethargy that had settled into Dan’s bones and he wasn’t really sure how to deal with it. It was different from the usual procrastination that Dan felt most days. This was something else entirely and Dan had a bad feeling that it had something to do with the fact that he’d been throwing up more than once a day for the past month, almost. Actually, it had only been about two weeks, but he’d just been vomiting a lot more than usual, because Phil would make him more meals, and they had to eat them together apparently, and Phil couldn’t exactly stop Dan from going to the bathroom after he ate, now could he? 

Currently, it was half-past seven on a Thursday night and Dan was sat in front of his computer, trying to edit footage he’d pieced together a little bit ago for a new video. Looking at his own face for hours on end really made Dan notice a lot of the little flaws about his own appearance. Thank God for the software that could let him sort of blend everything out. 

Though at the rate Dan was going, he was going to look like the freaking human skin-thing from Doctor Who. 

There was a knock at the door and Dan turned around, seeing Phil standing there in his pajamas, wearing glasses. “Yeah, what’s up Phil?” Dan asked, making the effort to smile a little even as his heart flipped over again in his chest. Where had these feelings even come from? Dan was one hundred percent sure that he had buried them when their little “thing” had tapered off, but here they were. Again. 

“I was gonna put the kettle on, do you want some tea when it’s done?” he asked, leaning against the door frame for a moment, glancing up from his phone in his hand at Dan. 

“Sure, thanks,” the younger man answered, waiting for Phil to leave so that he could turn back around. 

But Phil didn’t leave. He stood there another moment, doing something on his phone. Probably answering tweets or texting, Dan’s brain supplied, but then Phil had put his phone away and Dan told his brain to please be quiet because it was probably going to ruin things like it always did if it kept up that whole talking thing it liked to do. 

“Uh… did you need something else?” Dan asked, feeling a little awkward. He fidgeted slightly in his office chair, resisting the urge to swivel it back around. 

Phil looked up from his now empty hands at Dan and frowned slightly. “You would tell me if you weren’t well, right?” he asked, peering at Dan from behind his glasses. 

Where was this coming from? Dan forced a small laugh and nodded. “Yeah, course I would Phil. You’d probably hear me complaining from a mile away.” 

The older man didn’t smile or even crack a slight grin. “Are you sure? Because I mean, I’ve noticed that you leave right after dinner to use the bathroom, and I just wanted to make sure you were okay…” Phil trailed off, looking away from Dan. 

Dan tried to quash the panic welling up inside of him. Okay, so Phil had noticed that little behavior. He was probably bound to at some point, right? But Dan wasn’t ready to have this talk, not so soon… He swallowed around the now-familiar lump in his throat. “Yeah, of course. I just, you know…” Dan left it there. His head was starting to pound and his fingers were itching, his palms sweating. He needed to do something, eat something, eat everything they had in the house. 

Phil nodded, looking back at his friend. “Yeah, I get it. So if you’re not sick, do you wanna go out tomorrow? With me and PJ and possibly Chris?” he added quickly, as if Dan would misconstrue his meaning. 

Dan definitely wanted there to be a reason for him to misconstrue the meaning of that question. “Yeah, of course. That’d be loads of fun,” he replied, smiling a bit wider and more naturally at the thought of seeing his other friends soon. “I’m actually getting hungry, so what if I put the kettle on instead?” 

“That’d be great. I’ll take a look at your video while you do that.” 

Standing up from the chair as calmly as possible, Dan thanked Phil and resisted the urge to run out of the room and into the kitchen. Instead, walking calmly with sweaty palms and nervous legs, he made it to the kitchen, filled the teapot with water, and set it on the stove to boil before diving into the food. 

Within moments, Dan had a full bowl of sugary cereal in front of him and was delving into it as ifn he hadn’t eaten anything in years. He struggled to shut his brain off, needing to stop thinking about how fucked up he was, about how Phil was so concerned for him, about his own damn guilt… 

Dan finished the first bowl of cereal and poured himself a second, listening to the satisfying sound of the plastic inside crinkling as he shook out the last of the box into his bowl. He added another splash of milk and left the cereal box and bag out, not caring about it as he shoveled spoonful after spoonful into mouth. 

After the cereal there was bread, bread coated with butter, bread coated with jam, slice after slice crammed into Dan’s waiting mouth. He knew that he had at least gotten through five slices before the kettle went off, whistling shrilly and startling Dan into swallowing unchewed food. Hurriedly, he took the kettle off and then cleaned up his mess, tossing everything. 

Dan’s stomach was roiling uneasily as he got into the cupboard and pulled down two mugs, pouring one for Phil and one for himself, then putting the tea bags in right after to let it steep in the hot water. He turned the stove off and went back to his room, poking his head in to find Phil working on Dan’s video. “Tea’s done and on the counter,” he said, smiling a little as Phil turned around. 

“Sweet! Come drink it with me, Dan?” Phil asked, smiling widely. 

Aw, shit. “I want to but I need to use the bathroom. Be right out, though,” Dan said, forcing a smile as he disappeared into the bathroom, locking the door behind him. 

\---

Feeling a little put out by Dan’s odd refusal to have tea with him, Phil padded out of the editing room and down the hallway, into the kitchen. He could smell the tea steeping, some berry flavor that he liked, and smiled to himself. Dan was so nice for offering to make the tea himself. He probably needed the break, though, Phil thought as he took out his tea bag and tossed it in the bin. 

He tried a tentative sip of the tea and predictably burned his lips. “Ouch,” Phil muttered to himself, setting the mug down next to Dan’s on the counter. The black-haired man frowned slightly at his best friend’s tea. Why was the younger man behaving so strangely? It was normal for Dan to be sort of lethargic and lazy, but this was something new. Phil could feel that something was wrong. There was even some physical evidence, almost, in the way that Dan practically sprinted for the bathroom after each meal, and how he had started to look a little sickly. Sort of yellowed, and his jaw was swollen. 

Then there was the whole vomiting incident. Phil felt bad about it, but he had been woken up by Dan’s rustling around in the kitchen and had lain awake for quite some time before hearing the awful sounds of someone throwing up. That had gotten him out of bed; he didn’t want Dan to be sick or anything. But Dan was. It was pretty clear to Phil that Dan was anything but well. It all seemed so sudden to him… 

Phil heard a loud groan followed by a thud coming from the hallway and he immediately started out of his thoughts. “Dan?” he called, walking out of the kitchen and down to the bathroom slowly. “Dan?” 

\---

The brunette was slumped over the toilet, his cheek resting on the porcelain as he tried to regain his breathing. Something was wrong. Dan’s heart felt funny; it wasn’t beating right. “Phil,” he groaned, hearing his best friend calling for him from out in the hall. “Door.” The door was locked and Dan wasn’t sure if he could get up at this point. 

“Dan! Are you all right?” Phil asked, leaning against the bathroom door. He tried the handle, but it wouldn’t turn. Dan had locked the door. “Damn it, Dan, why did you lock the door?” 

Dan couldn’t think properly. Pushing himself up into a sitting position with trembling arms, he looked down into the toilet bowl: there wasn’t even any food in there, just blood and some gross yellow stuff. 

Oh, God. There was blood. He had just thrown up blood. 

Phil rattled the door handle, his voice growing more frantic the longer it took for Dan to answer him. “Open the door, Dan, come on, this isn’t funny!” 

No, Dan thought, this wasn’t fun anymore. Weakly, he stood up. And immediately regretted it. There was a sharp sense of vertigo, making Dan’s head pound and his heart beat out an uneven, stuttering rhythm in his chest. “Hold on,” he mumbled, gripping onto the counter and then onto the sink, trying to make it to the door. Leaning heavily on the counter, Dan reached out and unlocked the door. 

“Jesus Christ, Daniel, I swear - “ Phil was in the middle of saying when the handle suddenly turned and he stumbled into the bathroom, almost knocking Dan over. “Oh, my gosh, Dan.” Phil looked from Dan to the toilet behind him, then back to his best friend. Dan’s eyes were unfocused and there was a slight sheen of sweat on his face. His skin was sickly pale and the rancid smell of bile and something sharply metallic didn’t help Phil’s whole impression of the current situation. “What the fuck _happened_?” 

Dan tried to swallow, tried to get some saliva in his mouth so he could talk, but even that was too hard. “Threw up,” he managed to get out. “Blood. My heart - it’s - doing the flippy-over thing.” Taking in a deep breath, Dan closed his eyes and felt his consciousness begin to leave him. “Sorry, Phil,” he mumbled, slumping down and into blackness, just barely feeling Phil’s arms catch him before he hit the floor. 


	5. chapter four

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> That was how Phil ended up on Dan's bed, with the light off, being spooned by his best friend, his heart thumping so loudly beneath the comforter that he wasn't able to sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hahaha i can't believe i updated this. i gave myself feelings so i am sorry in advance. please let me know what you thought!! <3

When he woke up, Dan felt fogged and confused. It was bright when he tried to open his eyes and he didn’t understand why it was so damn bright, couldn’t they turn off the lights or something? 

“The lights have to stay on, I think,” a quiet voice answered the accidentally-spoken question from next to him, and Dan almost jumped into a full sitting position. Upon finding that he couldn’t, however, due to something pesky and wiry holding him down, Dan simply turned his head and saw Phil sitting in a chair next to him, looking rather subdued. 

Dan swallowed, his throat feeling even drier than it had before - before what, his brain supplied - and he asked, his voice croaking, “Where are we?” 

Phil shifted uncomfortably in his chair and brought his eyes up to meet Dan’s. They were red-rimmed and Dan had the sudden realization that Phil had been crying, that was the only time the other man’s eyes looked like that. “Hospital,” Phil answered after a long moment. “You threw up blood and then passed out.” 

Struggling to remember, Dan closed his eyes briefly and screwed his face into a compressed expression. He had made tea for him and Phil, he remembered that… then after that he had a few bowls of cereal (God why had he thought that was okay, that was too much to eat), and then… Oh. Yeah, he had thrown up. After throwing up, things were kind of clouded in Dan’s memory. He didn’t want to ask Phil about it, though, that would probably indicate that something was really wrong with him. “Has the doctor come in yet?” Dan asked instead, opening his eyes. 

Nodding, Phil answered, “Yes. She said that you have tears in your esophagus and upper stomach bits, and that was why you threw up blood. She also said something about swollen glands, and that your blood came back funny, and your heart had an arrhythmia.” Phil paused then, closing his eyes briefly and swallowing. Dan watched the way his friend’s Adam’s apple bobbed in his throat and almost missed the wetness in Phil’s voice when the other man began speaking again. “He said he has to run a few more tests and then he’ll be back. He let me stay here for you.” 

Overwhelming guilt crashed over Dan like a tidal wave. Phil didn’t deserve to have to deal with any of this, this was all Dan’s fault. He couldn’t help it, couldn’t help himself… There was no reason that Phil had to deal with any of this bullshit. “You should go home and sleep,” Dan suggested after a minute. “You shouldn’t have to - “ 

“Shouldn’t have to what, Dan? Be here? Of course I do!” Phil exclaimed, interrupting Dan. The older man’s eyebrows were furrowed and he was frowning angrily at his friend. “You’ve been acting so weird for ages and I don’t know when it started or where the normal Dan went, but I think that I deserve to find out!” Phil’s chest was heaving and he looked on the brink of crying. 

Dan didn’t hesitate at all when he reached out with one hand, an IV stuck in the back of it, and held it out for Phil, touching the other man’s shoulder. He could feel the way that Phil relaxed and leaned into his touch and it made Dan’s heart skip a beat noisily on the monitor. “I’m sorry, Phil,” he answered quietly. “I didn’t - I didn’t mean for you to notice, I never - “ 

Those were not the right words apparently, because Phil’s head snapped up and he glared at Dan with such an intensity that the younger man immediately snatched his hand back. “Really, Dan? Maybe you shouldn’t have made yourself throw up in the first place, hmm? That would have been a great idea!” Phil paused, his shoulders moving with the force of his breathing, and Dan watched his best friend slowly calm himself down, only to say, “If you were struggling with something, you could have come to me at any time, Dan.” 

And there was the real issue that was bothering Phil, out in the open for Dan to examine. Phil was pissed off because Dan hadn’t come to him, Dan had thrown up instead, Dan was awful at having feelings and at being a person and in general Dan felt that he was just awful. There really wasn’t much for Dan to say to that - nothing that Phil wanted him to say, anyway. “I know,” Dan finally settled on, adding, “I’m sorry.” 

Phil frowned, the expression tugging all of his features down. There was a long moment of silence and all that either boy could hear was the steady beeping of Dan’s heart monitor. Dan glanced into the hall, watching doctors and nurses walk by their room, scrubs and doctor’s coats brushing against each other at times, and he could almost hear the steps of those people thud in his ears in such a strange silence. 

“Okay.” Phil finally said. He looked at Dan and Dan looked at Phil, the two gazing at each other for far too long. Dan’s heart rate sped up again, just slightly enough for the two to break the stare. “I don’t really - it’s hard to just forgive this right away,” the black-haired man added. 

Dan nodded slowly. He could see where Phil was coming from. “Yeah,” he answered, his voice barely above a whisper. “It’s hard for me to do that too.” 

\---

A nurse had stopped by about half an hour after that and had injected Dan with some sort of powerful opiate to make the pain in his stomach lessen. “This should help with the swelling in your stomach and throat,” he had explained as he gave Dan two shots, one for each arm. “You may feel drowsy or dizzy, so don’t drive back home, all right?” he had said, and Dan had nodded. Even if he had been driving home, the medication wouldn’t hit Dan for a while; his system had always been rather slow at processing drugs and alcohol. 

Except that they were on the tube ride home, two stops away, and Dan was leaning his entire body against Phil’s, and Phil really wasn’t sure how to handle this. He had his arm around his friend, trying to make Dan sit upright, but Dan was just nuzzling into Phil’s side. “Dan, come on, we’re going to have to get off soon,” Phil prompted, but Dan ws not having any of it. 

“Phiiiiiiiil,” he whined, wiggling around and making other passegers stare. “I don’t wanna get up.” He lolled his head back and looked up at the older man, an expert pout on his face. 

Embarrassed, Phil decided to just try to keep Dan quiet. He could probably deal with Dan when they got home, right? 

\---

No. No, Phil was incapable of dealing with Dan on the walk up their staircase and to the door. Dan had decided that he didn’t want to walk, and that his legs were made of jell-o, so he was clutching Phil’s arm with both hands and leaning heavily against the other man, making silly whining noises the whole time they moved. 

“‘M gonna be sick, Phil,” Dan mumbled into Phil’s shoulder when they were finally standing still outside their own door. 

Phil fiddled with the keys and hurried to push them into the lock, twisting until the door opened. “If you throw up again, Dan, I swear to God.” The older man was thoroughly fed up with Dan’s antics, even if they were just from excessive medicating and whatever problem Dan was dealing with. Phil hadn’t said a word to the doctor or the nurse about what he had caught Dan doing a month ago, because he thought that he should talk to Dan first before acting without his friend’s permission. He would expect Dan to do the same for him. 

But now, now he was just getting tired of this. Phil needed to go to bed; it was a little after midnight because they’d been in hospital for far too long, and Dan needed more taking care of currently than he could administer. “Come on, we need to get you to bed,” Phil told Dan. He wrapped an arm around the taller’s waist and half-tugged him away from the front door, guiding Dan towards his own room. 

“But I don’t want to go!” Dan exclaimed, trying and failing to pull away from his friend. What it resulted in, however, was Dan underestimating his own strength, and pulling Phil to topple onto him, which ended up with both men sprawled awkwardly on the floor and on each other. 

Repressing the urge to sigh, Phil tried to roll off of Dan and sit up. That would have been hilarious and made the two of them laugh were this any other occasion. This wasn’t any other occasion, however, so when Dan grasped at Phil’s shirt and bunched the material in his fists to prevent Phil from getting up, Phil was a little irritated. “Dan. We can’t mess around on the carpet. You’ve got to sleep, the doctor said so,” he reprimanded, looking down at his friend. 

Dan’s face was flushed and his eyes were a little clouded from the medication, the pupils covering almost all of his brown irises. “But Phil, I’m comfortable here with you,” Dan said softly, frowning a little. “Let’s sleep out here. Too lazy for bed.” 

All right, how could Phil not say yes to that face? “Dan, come on, that’s silly. You were just given too much medication. Let’s go to bed,” he responded, matching the softness of Dan’s tone. Phil reached down and unattached Dan’s hand from his shirt, rolling off of his friend and sitting up, then standing after a stretch. “Come on, up you get!” he added, smiling widely and holding out a hand for Dan to take. 

Thankfully, Dan took Phil’s hand and got up, even if it was a little wobbly. He returned Phil’s smile and Phil felt a light twinge in his chest at the sight of Dan so happy - when was the last time he had seen that big of a smile from the younger man? So when Dan didn’t let go of Phil’s hand and even went so far as to intertwine their fingers together and went back to leaning on him, Phil let Dan do it. There wasn’t any harm in it, not if it made Dan happy. 

They walked to Dan’s bedroom like that and Phil flicked on the light, letting go of Dan’s hand finally. “Why don’t you change and I’ll go get you a cup of water, okay?” he suggested. Dan nodded and turned around, already pulling off his shirt. 

Phil turned and left quickly, feeling the blood rush to his face and ears. He hadn’t seen Dan without clothes in a few years, not since they used to fool around. The sight of Dan just casually taking his shirt off like that had brought a shadowy memory resurfacing - 

They had both been in Phil’s bed; he was half-naked and laying down on the bed, Dan straddling his hips and nervously fiddling with the hem of his own shirt. “Go on, it’s okay,” Phil urged, his voice soft and encouraging. 

Dan had blushed, a tiny smile working its way onto his face, before he took a deep breath and just took the shirt off in one swift motion, tossing it behind him as he sat back slightly, looking at Phil with something like panic in his eyes. 

“You’re beautiful, Dan,” Phil had murmured, sitting up just enough to wrap his arms around Dan and press their naked chests together, planting soft kisses along Dan’s jawline and on his shoulders and collarbones - 

“Phil?” Dan said softly from directly behind his friend, and Phil dropped the water glass into the sink, letting it clatter to the basin. The water hit it and bounced off, soaking Phil’s shirt. “You got your shirt wet, you turnip!” Dan exclaimed, laughing from behind Phil. He took a step closer, almost pressing his pajama-clad self against the older man’s back, and reached over to turn the faucet off. 

Instead of stepping away, though, Dan pressed himself just that little bit closer, his hips against Phil’s rear, and reached down to tug at the hem of Phil’s wet shirt. “You should take this off, you’ll catch cold, Phil,” the brunette murmured. Phil was pretty sure that he had stopped breathing. Dan’s fingers were ghosting along the hem of his shirt, slipping up and lightly brushing Phil’s bare skin beneath the shirt - 

“I’ve - I’ve got it, Dan!” Phil exclaimed, flushing red as he stepped to the side, sliding away from Dan. Frazzled, he smoothed the hem of his shirt back down, not actually intending to take it off until Dan was in bed and Phil could be alone and think about the feeling of Dan’s hands on his skin and how much he just wanted to kiss the younger man right now - oh, God, this was not good. “You, uh, you have to get to bed, Dan,” he added, biting his lip nervously. “Can you make it there okay?” 

“I might need some help getting there. And falling asleep.” 

Phil breathed in sharply through his nose. “Okay.” 

\---

That was how Phil ended up in Dan’s bed, with the light off, being spooned by his best friend, his heart thumping so loudly beneath the comforter that he wasn’t able to sleep. What was going on? These feelings were kept under-wraps for months, years even, and then they were resurfacing now of all times? 

Maybe it had something to do with how strangely Dan was behaving as of late. There was the strange eating at first, which Phil had actually noticed, but he didn’t want to comment on the behavior: Dan could be really sensitive sometimes, especially about his appearance. But then it got a little worse, and Dan would disappear into the bathroom afterwards for a long time. The shower was usually running, but the night that Phil had confronted Dan wasn’t the first time that he had heard the other man throwing up. 

The massive eating episodes had stopped after that confrontation though, and Phil thought things were back to normal. Until he had heard Dan throwing up again. It made Phil so angry - how could Dan do that? Was he ill? Why wasn’t he telling Phil any of this? 

And then - Phil swallowed noisily and shifted, feeling Dan unconsciously tighten his grip around him - and then Phil had ran into the bathroom after he had heard the thump, and Dan had apologized, and passed out in Phil’s arms. That was one of the scariest moments of Phil’s life, next to only the time he got so sick he could barely call the hospital. But something about holding Dan’s body in his arms like that, being able to smell the blood and the bile and the slick sweat of someone who was ill, terrified Phil more than anything else could. He had been almost crying while dialing the number for the hospital, still holding Dan as he barely got out the words that he needed to say to get an ambulance up to their flat. 

A small sound escaped Phil’s mouth, a sort of whimper almost, and he realized that his eyes were brimming with tears. “Ah, crap,” he muttered, reaching up and wiping the back of his hand across his eyes. Phil started to pull away from Dan’s grip, to sit up and walk back to his room, when he felt more than heard Dan say his name. 

“Phil?” Dan asked sleepily. “Phil, you okay?” Phil shook his head and sat up fully, but Dan’s arm was still around his waist, slipping lower to rest around his waistband instead. “Stay here, lie down, sleep,” Dan urged, his voice still tinted with sleepiness. Slowly, Phil lay back down - there wasn’t too much of an option without upsetting Dan - and ended up facing his best friend somehow. 

“Dan?” he asked softly, tangling his legs with the younger man’s. There was something reassuring in Dan’s warmth, in the way Dan tangled their legs even further so that Phil could barely tell where his legs separated from Dan’s. 

“Hmm?” 

“You’re going to be okay. Right?” 

“Okay,” Dan hummed softly, before leaning forward and pressing soft, feather-light kisses onto Phil’s forehead, Phil’s cheeks, Phil’s nose. “Okay with you.” He sighed contentedly, and Phil didn’t dare to breathe until Dan’s breathing had evened out and his eyes were shut, a serene smile on his face. 


	6. chapter five

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ...Phil's bright eyes so close to his face, Phil's skin under his fingers, Phil's legs wrapped up in his in this bed, his lips on Phil's face -- OH SHIT.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello i am back with this fic wow. be impressed.
> 
> just a little bit of filler with some hope for you guys! c:

Dan woke up alone in his bed, his limbs spread-eagle across the sheets and the comforter half-on his body. That was a sure sign that he hadn’t gone to bed alone last night; Dan always slept wrapped up in his blanket like it was a sleeping bag. Groggy, he sat up and rubbed at his head: it kind of hurt, actually. Why would that - 

The hospital memories came rushing back and Dan squeezed his eyes shut against the onslaught. Too-bright lights, that gross sterile scent, Phil’s sad eyes, the doctor injecting him with medication, Phil’s bright eyes so close to his face, Phil’s skin under his fingers, Phil’s legs wrapped up in his in this bed, his lips on Phil’s face -- OH SHIT. 

Dan sprung out of bed at that memory, blushing down to his collarbones. Holy shit balls, why had he done that, had Phil been okay with it, were they going to talk about it today? Oh, God, Dan thought, burying his head in his hands and trying to hide his embarrassment from the entirety of nobody else in the room. Phil probably felt so awkward now! Why was Dan always fucking things up? 

“Dan? Are you awake yet?” Phil called from somewhere else in the flat, and Dan could hear his feet thumping down the hall. Phil had always been a loud walker. 

Feeling his heart beating too loudly in his chest, Dan threw himself back onto bed and tried to look like he’d just rolled over. Maybe the flush would be gone by the time Phil opened the door. 

Knocking once to let Dan know he was there, Phil entered the other man’s bedroom and saw that Dan was indeed up, if a bit red. Did he have a fever? “Hey, you are! Good morning, sleepyhead!” Phil exclaimed, smiling broadly. He strode forward and sat down on Dan’s bed, pulling himself up and sitting with his legs crossed by the brunette. “How are you feeling? The medicine probably wore off by now.” 

Dan smiled back at Phil, he couldn’t help it with such a beautiful sight before him, and assessed his body. “My stomach is kind of sore, and so is my throat,” he replied, a little hoarsely. “Did I, uh - I’m sorry about messing up last night, I kind of remember what I did,” Dan rushed, averting his eyes from Phil’s to look at the bedsheet. He was getting red all over again now, he could feel it, and damn it, couldn’t he wait until he was dressed before blurting his guts out? 

“Sorry about what?” Phil asked, playing off Dan’s apology as nothing big. In reality, his stomach felt tight and it was a little hard to swallow. 

Was he really going to do this? Dan wondered, but a quick glance up at Phil answered that question for him - yes, the older man was going to do this to him. Taking a deep breath, Dan said in a rush, “I think I came on to you a little last night and I’m sorry for making things awkward, I didn’t mean to do it, I think that I still like you, like, really like you Phil, so it’s just difficult for me and I’m sorry, I can go out and leave if you’d like don’t worry about --” 

Dan stopped talking at that point because Phil had heard all that he needed to and had leaned forward to kiss his best friend square on the mouth. The kiss was soft and long, their lips molding together like they had been meant to - it always felt like this when Dan and Phil kissed, as if they had been crafted for each other and each other alone. 

Phil pulled away slowly, his hand coming to rest on Dan’s cheek instead. “I wouldn’t worry about that too much if I were you,” he finally responded, a smile as bright as the sun breaking out on his face. 

Dan grinned and relief flooded through his body, pulsing in his veins and his heart and yes, he could breathe again, with Phil’s hand on his skin and Phil’s lips on his own. “Come here and kiss me again, you turnip.” He leaned up and connected their lips for a second time that morning. 

\----

The day was spent holding each other in various comfortable locations around the flat. The two men stayed in Dan’s bed for a good hour or so, with Phil’s fingers tracing absent-minded patterns on Dan’s skin while they kissed for what felt like forever. To Dan, this felt like when he sat down at the piano - so many memories would come back, of things that Phil liked and things they had done together, and it was so easy to relearn anything he had forgotten. 

Of course, such a nice and blissful morning and afternoon would lead to a less pleasant evening. Dan and Phil were on the couch, watching reruns of bake-off shows. Even though Dan was slightly taller than Phil, he was curled up in Phil’s arms, the little spoon on the couch that their long limbs practically dangled off of. 

It was a commercial break when Phil brought it up. “So,” he started, a hand rubbing gentle circles on Dan’s forearm, “what’s with the whole throwing-up thing, Dan?” 

Dan immediately tensed, his heart thumping loudly in his ears. “I - I don’t know what you mean by that,” he answered after a moment. It was a lame answer but Dan definitely would rather be talking about old naked people or something gross than this. 

Phil sat up and Dan did too, backing himself into the arm of the couch with his galaxy print pillow. He grabbed it and placed it over his stomach, holding it there with both arms as he looked at anywhere but Phil. 

“I just want to help you,” Phil tried, “and I can’t do that if you don’t talk to me.” He paused, trying to catch Dan’s eye. “Dan.” 

No, that just made him feel worse. Dan was well aware that he was fucked up, that making himself throw up after eating was fucked up, and that in general Dan could only ever see himself fucking up again and again in the future. “It’s nothing, I’ll stop,” he muttered, fixing his eyes on his fingers. They were clutching the pillow tightly but Dan couldn’t really feel it; every nerve was more concentrated on keeping Dan’s eyes dry. Crying would only prove how fucked up this whole situation was. 

There were a long few moments of silence, and each beat that passed made Dan want to scream. The commercials were still playing in the background, some noisy advert about a new hair product, and it was unbearable to sit in such a normal setting and feel so tumultuous inside. 

Then Phil shifted forwards on the couch, leaning towards Dan, and brushed his fingers on Dan’s cheek. He came away with dampened fingers. Phil frowned and sat forward properly, in Dan’s space at a comfortable distance, using both of his thumbs to wipe each of Dan’s cheeks free of tears. “Don’t cry, Bear,” he murmured, pulling out the old nickname. It felt almost foreign on his tongue, but at the same time Phil felt a little warmth in his chest as he said it; it’d been so long since he had felt comfortable doing so. 

Dan shook his head and let go of the pillow to reach up and grab Phil’s hands with his own. taking them down. Sunshine didn’t clean up after rain and Phil shouldn’t clean up after him. “It’s okay,” Dan managed to say, his voice sounding strange and choked. “I’m just - it’s fucked up, Phil, it’s crazier than a bag of cats, I’m sorry, please don’t leave.” Dan made himself stop even though one embarrassing statement had slipped out; he couldn’t need Phil, he couldn’t expect Phil to deal with him when he was like this, that was unfair. But, God… Dan needed Phil, as much as he wasn’t sure he was okay with admitting it. 

Taking his hands out of Dan’s limp grasp, Phil removed the pillow from Dan’s lap and pulled the younger man forward in a hug, wrapping his arms tightly around Dan as if that would keep him together. Dan gripped onto Phil’s shirt, screwing his eyes shut and burying his head in the man’s shoulder. Phil’s hugs were always so warm and sincere, even in passing, and Dan felt so lucky to be able to experience this kind of hug for longer than most people got to. 

Phil gently rubbed Dan’s back and said over and over, “It’s going to be okay, Dan, you’ll be fine, I won’t leave, don’t cry, please.” He wasn’t sure, still, of why Dan was throwing up his food, why it had gotten so bad, why Dan hadn’t talked to him about it… but he chose to let it drop. If it bothered Dan this much to talk about, then Phil wouldn’t bring it up again unless it got too bad. 

The night ended with Dan dozing off in Phil’s arms on the couch, still tired, and Phil let Dan sleep for an hour before getting them up and putting Dan in his bed. “Things won’t always be like this,” Dan muttered as he was falling asleep, and Phil didn’t know if he was referring to the vomiting or to the rekindled relationship between the two of them. 

He hoped to God it wasn’t the latter. 


	7. chapter six

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Yes, congratulations to the happy couple, now we can finally end our betting pool,” Chris said with his usual grin, pressing the bottle of sweet red wine into Dan’s waiting hands.
> 
> “How did you -- “
> 
> “Mate, it’s been obvious since we’ve all been hanging out that you and Phil have been a thing of some sort."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1) oops i forgot about this when i joined the les mis fandom  
> 2) i tried to make up for it with a shitty sexy scene so i really hope that that does it for you omg  
> 3) also, someone is ALWAYS an asshole when i write fic. try to guess who it is!!!!!  
> 4) pretty please leave me reviews so i know how i'm doing  
> 5) come say hi to me on [tumblr!](http://enjolrasactual.tumblr.com)

A month passed and Dan and Phil were dating. They were boyfriends, even, and their friends all noticed. Louise was probably the first to catch on, when she and Dan had a moment to themselves while Phil was checking out at Topman. Looking her friend up and down, the blonde asked, “So, how are you and Phil?” 

Dan accidentally swallowed the gum he had been chewing. “We’re fine,” he answered, his voice a little croaky. “Uh,” he cleared his throat, “why do you ask?” 

Louise smirked at Dan and playfully whapped him on the arm with the back of her hand. “Don’t pretend to be daft with me, Dan Howell, I can tell that something’s changed. Have you finally gone and told Phil that you love him and he’s accepted?” 

“That’s ridiculous, why would you think that, Louise, it’s downright -- “ 

“Daniel dearest, you look at Phil like he’s made of starlight. It’s a tad obvious,” Louise said, interrupting Dan’s pointless sputtering. Dan made a noncommittal sound, shrugged his shoulders, and then, with a bashful smile, nodded. Louise grinned delightedly, jumping up and down before hugging Dan tightly. “Oh, I’m so glad! I knew that you two would end up like this!” Louise lowered her voice and raised her eyebrows, adding, “Don’t you worry, your secret is safe with me.” 

Phil returned then, holding his and Dan’s shopping bags, and eyed the pair of them with a confused expression. 

Dan and Louise exchanged one glance before bursting out into laughter simultaneously, shaking their heads and waving off Phil’s confused exclamations. 

\----

PJ and Chris seemed to have already known when they walked in the door of Dan and Phil’s flat, each bearing a bottle of wine and a couple of films apiece. “Yes, congratulations to the happy couple, now we can finally end our betting pool,” Chris said with his usual grin, pressing the bottle of sweet red wine into Dan’s waiting hands. 

“How did you -- “ 

“Mate, it’s been obvious since we’ve all been hanging out that you and Phil have been a thing of some sort. And now that you’re open about it, we can finally pay off -- oh, shit, who got it right?” 

PJ chimed in with his cheshire grin, “Me! Of course, as I can see the future, I knew that I would win. Hand over the money, Christopher.” 

“You’ll never catch me!” Chris shouted, getting a running start before throwing himself on to the large black couch in the living room, his limbs spread about and grasping onto their various throw pillows. 

Shrugging, PJ handed the bottle and the films in his hand off to Phil, who had been listening to this exchange slightly open-mouthed, and said, “Close your mouth, kid, you’re gonna catch flies,” before diving on top of Chris and pushing him off. 

“These are _your_ friends,” Dan muttered to Phil, heading off into the kitchen to pour four glasses of the sweet red wine. 

\----

Two and a half months since Dan and Phil had been dating and Dan hadn’t thrown up once, not even when he had eaten more than two thousand calories in a day and spent the first five minutes of his shower just looking at the toilet and wondering if he should. He eventually decided against it, not wanting to disappoint Phil. 

But numbers can’t lie, and Dan thought he was going to pass out when he saw how much weight he had gained since he started officially dating Phil. Stepping off of the scale in a daze, Dan tried to recount every bite of food that he had eaten in the last nearly-three months. Sure, he and Phil went out to eat often, but it hadn’t been that fattening… had it? 

\----

“Dan, are you going to finish your slice?” Phil asked from across their table two weeks later. They had ordered pizza and Dan had tactfully nibbled at one slice for half an hour, talking animatedly the rest of the time. He hadn’t even eaten half of it. 

Looking down at his plate as if surprised, Dan pretended to weigh his options before shoving the plate to the side. “Nah, I’m not really that hungry I suppose!” he answered. “Why, do you want it?” 

A frown twitched at the corners of Phil’s mouth before he fixed it with a smile and shook his head. “How about you save it for later, then, and put it back in the box?” 

Dan nodded, standing up and throwing out the paper plate, putting the barely-touched slice of pizza back in its cardboard box. He would throw that out later. “I’m going to go shower, all right?” he said, turning back around, only to find that Phil had crept up behind him at some point and was now extremely close. “Um, yes, can I help you?” Dan asked, grinning and trying to play it off as if this was some sort of joke, when he knew in his heart that it wasn’t. 

“You’re not -- you’re not throwing up again, are you?” Phil asked, worrying his bottom lip between his teeth and looking at Dan with concern shining clearly in his bright blue eyes. “Because if you are, and you’re not talking to me about what’s going on, Dan, then I’ll have to bring you back to hospital. I don’t want you getting sick again, not like that, and -- “ 

Whatever Phil had been about to say next was cut off by Dan pressing his lips fiercely against Phil’s. It took a moment, but Phil began kissing Dan back. Dan wrapped his arms around Phil’s neck as Phil’s arms slithered down to hold his boyfriend tightly at the waist, his fingers trailing down Dan’s back as they moved. Their mouths fit together perfectly, and as Dan flicked his tongue out against Phil’s bottom lip and Phil opened his mouth, he realized that nothing could be a better distraction than this. 

So Dan bit at Phil’s bottom lip, catching it between his teeth and pulling on it slightly. Phil inhaled sharply and tightened his hold on Dan, leaning into him with a little more force, pressing Dan back up against the counter. Dan let out a soft groan at the feeling of Phil’s entire body pressed flush against him; this was heaven on earth and Dan didn’t even care about how cliche that sounded because it was true. 

Phil’s lips slowly kissed their way off of Dan’s mouth and trailed down from his lips to his jaw, to his neck, to his collarbones, where Phil suddenly bit down and Dan actually moaned aloud, one hand reaching up to grip Phil’s hair. Phil’s teeth were digging into his flesh and it felt so good, so perfect, as Phil sucked at that bit of skin, pulling away slightly and then licking over the bite. 

Glancing up at his boyfriend, a wicked smirk curving his swollen red lips, Phil murmured, “So, about that shower?” 

\----

They never made it to the shower. Dan was lying in bed that night, Phil asleep next to him, and he recalled what happened after that moment. 

Essentially, Phil had led Dan to the shower slowly, teasing and torturing him the whole way, and when they were just outside the bathroom, Dan stopped them. “I can’t wait,” he lied in a whisper, looking up through his lashes at Phil and biting his lip. “Let me.” And he had gotten down on his knees, trailing his hands along Phil’s thighs. He had unzipped and unbuttoned Phil’s jeans, pulling them down just enough to get his dick out. And he had looked up at Phil, whose eyes were wide and more black than blue, and Dan had slipped his lips over the head of Phil’s dick, pulling the hot flesh into his mouth easily. 

His mouth working the head of Phil’s dick, Dan reached up with one hand and got a hold of Phil’s balls, massaging them slowly but surely as he went farther down on Phil. Having no gag reflex made deep-throating easy, and Dan’s dick twitched in his pants when he felt the head of Phil’s cock brush against the back of his throat and Phil made a soft, strangled sound as his fingers tangled tightly in Dan’s hair. Without needing any guidance, Phil pulled back a little and shallowly thrusted into Dan’s mouth, letting out an obscene groan at the sight below him: Dan’s eyes were half-lidded, his jaw slack as he had all of Phil’s dick in his mouth and a hand down his pants, jerking himself off as Phil fucked his mouth. 

They both lasted for maybe sixty seconds before Dan swallowed around Phil’s cock, his throat fluttering against the head, and Phil’s hips bucked and spasmed and he came down Dan’s throat, causing Dan to speed up his pumps until he was coming too, all over the front of his pants. 

They showered separately after that. 

And honestly, that was how Dan wanted it. Or so he convinced himself, as he rolled over and wormed his way into a sleeping Phil’s open arms. It wasn’t because he was chubby and gross and couldn’t let Phil see him naked for fear of Phil realizing how disgsuting he was and leaving him. 

All the same, Dan thought as he closed his eyes, he was going to give this dieting thing a go, starting tomorrow. 


End file.
